


A Totally Normal (Not Weird at All) Day in the Life of Tony Stark

by BennyBatch



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Crack, Loki (Marvel) Does What He Wants, Lokitty, M/M, POV Tony Stark, Pranks and Practical Jokes, loki is a little shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:22:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23130001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BennyBatch/pseuds/BennyBatch
Summary: There’s nothing strange going on here, I assure you. This is just an average day in the life of Tony Stark. Don’t you believe me?
Relationships: Loki/Tony Stark
Comments: 22
Kudos: 135





	A Totally Normal (Not Weird at All) Day in the Life of Tony Stark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rabentochter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rabentochter/gifts).



> Happy Birthday Sesil!!!!
> 
> I loaf you!

Tony’s day began with a black cat crossing his path, which, honestly, wasn’t an entirely new experience for him (he’s lived in New York City long enough to stumble across more than his fair share of wayward cats); except, right now, there is one small, absolutely miniscule difference—he is currently standing in the doorway of his bedroom. In his penthouse. Watching a large, fuzzy cat meander its way into the living room.

Sensing him, the cat stills, turning to bore bright green eyes into his until, with a flick of its long tail and a slow blink, it continues on, elegantly leaping onto the couch to curl into a ball.

“Uh, Loki?”

“Mrrrp.”

“Okay,” he breathes, drawing out the o as he turns to head into the kitchen.

Weird, sure, but this wasn’t the first time he’d seen Loki like that. Sometimes the guy just preferred to be a cat, and who is Tony to blame him? He’d be a cat, too, if it meant escaping the drudge of menial day to day tasks in favor of lazing, napping, and the occasional bout of boundless energy that results in an even deeper snooze. What a life that would be. Instead, he pulls down a bag of his favorite fresh coffee beans.

He opens the grinder and pours in the memorized amount of beans into the machine before flipping it on, filling the kitchen with its obnoxious whirring. Humming to himself, his gaze slips to the left, settling on a stream of salt, and, frowning, his eyes flick to the living room where he spots the tip of a twitching tail peeking over the top of the couch before he turns back to sweep the salt with his hand, tossing it all into the sink to be washed away later. As he does, the grinder kicks off, and Tony leans forward to inhale the scent of freshly ground beans.

He sighs, almost a moan.

But, just as he is about to pour the grounds into the filter, a heavy weight lands on his shoulder, sending the ground-filled filter flying off everywhere and nearly toppling him over as well. By some miracle, he manages to snag the edge of the counter to keep himself upright.

When he does straighten, he stares blankly at the clumpy mess strewn across the granite before leveling Loki with the same blank look.

“Really, dude?” he says, grumpily sweeping everything up and tossing it into the sink alongside the salt. “You know this means you’ll have to take me out for coffee now, right? And not that chain shit, either.”

Loki purrs in his ear.

“Yeah, well, that’s the official rule now. Mess with Tony’s coffee, you get the hor—oof!”

He grunts as Loki leaps off his shoulder.

The mage lands softly behind him, on two feet this time, and Tony grumbles as a slim arm wraps around his waist but doesn’t fight it when Loki nudges and cuddles him into the elevator to take them down to street level.

When they reach the bottom, they step out just in time to witness a contractor ram the foot of his ladder into the large mirror hanging in Tower’s entryway; bated silence filling the space shattering glass leaves behind. Loki stands off to the side, oddly quiet as Tony spends about ten minutes fretting about to determine that no one was hurt and to organize a cleaning crew. By the time everything is settled, Tony is pulling at his hair while Loki guides him through the automatic doors and onto the street—but Tony stops in the middle, incredulous as more black cats pass in front of them, grouped up in pairs.

Loki whistles past him, either not noticing the cats or not caring to take the time to notice.

“What,” Tony mumbles to himself, eventually following as a few stragglers brush against his leg, “on God’s good Earth is happening right now.” He notices that other people littering the sidewalk stop to let the cats pass as well, every one of them wearing a matching expression, all except Loki—Tony blinks, a sudden realization.

“Loki, do you know what day it is?”

“Friday, why?” he replies, a look of complete innocence on his face as he walks directly under an outstretched ladder leaning against the side of a building, then under the one standing right next to it, and the next. With each ladder, Loki’s face cracks, lips pulling wider and wider until a full-blown grin illuminates his face as Tony’s expression shifts between desperate confusion, understanding, and exasperated amusement.

He also takes Loki’s hand when the mage offers it, twining their fingers.

Of course Loki knew.

How could the God of Mischief, Mr. Chaos himself, not know about and exploit the Midgardian superstitions surrounding Friday the 13th?

“No more mirrors, though, okay?”—he bumps against Loki’s shoulder—“That’s already seven years of bad luck on your shoulders.”

“I make no promises.”

“Course you don’t,” Tony laughs; just another day in the totally normal life of Tony Stark.


End file.
